The Butcher

My tale begins in the burning ruins of a small township of people. Barely 500 souls occupied the area and called it home. At least, that’s what I was told. It was found only on local maps, as by and large it was of no significance to the rest of the world. I don’t even remember its name. Neither did my “father” Henry. For reasons I was never told, the town was overrun by a group of penal soldiers of the Empire known only as The Butchers. They razed the town to the ground, and of the known survivors, I was the only one. Before I go too much further, I should elaborate on The Butchers and their role in the world, and how they came to be destroying my place of birth.
 
The Butchers were an arm of the military force of Runestone, led by a pyromancer named Henry Lutzvern. It began as a penance squad where criminals of all sorts were sentenced to serve out their time in restitution to the kingdom of Runestone. It was made up largely of murders and rapists - those who were sentenced to life imprisonment - as well as those petty criminals who just accumulated such a history within the Runestone justice system that they were deemed a menace to society.
 
The Grand City of Runestone is a city whose only woes are self-inflicted. The people enjoy imported sugar and spices unlike anywhere else in the Smoking Seas and its lands are vast and fertile. However, easy times breed decadence and corruption. The Empire has suffered much from nepotism and abuse of the peasantry. The knightly orders who were once the sword of the Empire are now just decorated peacocks traversing the streets of imperial cities. The countryside is rife with the dangers of highwaymen and mercenaries turned bandit. The Empire is a mixed state of Feudal vassals, The Church of the Three, and knightly orders all following the Emperor of Runestone. A nation of relative prosperity with a strong love for the culinary arts. The Empire’s core lands of Runestone are linked together by the Emperor who binds them, The Church of the Three who keeps religion aligned with the Arch Lector’s wishes, and the Legions who provide safety and an escape from the drudgery of everyday life.
 
During my time with my father, he never told me of the events that led to him leading The Butchers, only that he was stripped of his lands and noble titles and made to lead the penal squad as punishment. While I can’t fathom whatever it was he may have done or could have happened to him, he certainly felt that being the leader of this group was a better deal than trying to desert and be persecuted. The Butchers were expected to be wiped out, with a certainty, but the nobles did not expect him to lead his soldiers to victory as often as he did. Perhaps something to do with his pyromantic abilities? I would put money on it. Henry was a tactician, and taught me much growing up. Moreover, many of the men who came and went through the ranks of The Butchers often found themselves highly motivated and moralized due to his presence. Why would one fear a forest ambush when you could just burn the forest down? He was as cold and ruthless on the battlefield as his flames were hot. He was unforgiving to anyone standing opposite him, and supported anyone standing alongside him. It was likely this attitude that gained him some respect amongst the criminals he gathered to fill his ranks. I don’t believe anyone ever dared to attack him in his sleep or even considered robbing him. A few “accidental” bonfires starting alongside some missing recruits tend to make one… connect the dots.
 
The Butchers were known for getting the job done, despite their status as completely expendable. What man of power cared that a criminal died to further their cause? None, of course. They were not an undefeated squad of elite warriors by any means, either. No, the survival of The Butchers was solely the work of Henry himself, and those few men who came to accept their position within The Butchers and made the most of it; helping Henry and keeping the squad in order. Even still, Henry never really had full control of the men. Staying in larger cities often led to misdeeds he would hear about from townsmen; women raped, items stolen, buildings damaged, that sort of thing. It was a give and take of maintaining order amongst those he commanded over. While he would love to just never have the men stay within city walls, the restlessness and resentment that would grow among the men would just grow to be too much and become chaos. To that end, he did try to keep away from cities and towns as much as possible, but there was certainly no avoiding it all together. I’m sure he had to look the other way from many things he would rather not have to.
 
When Henry found me, I was an infant - unable to take care of myself in any way. How he managed to keep me alive during the early days of my life, I have no idea. He told me once, when I inquired about it, that he would hire nursemaids to come with us for periods of time, usually between towns, and take care of me. A few times he joked that sometimes when he picked up a new batch of “recruits” from an Imperial town that there would be a woman or two among them, and their duties for a time included taking over my care. He never gave me a straight, serious answer. I don’t remember anything from that time, either. Given the nature of our little band, no one from those times aside from Henry are even still living.
 
He told me, the secret of my bloodline was apparent to him from the moment he found me. It was because of his knowledge of arcane study that he knew the signs that gave away my lineage, but it didn’t become physically apparent to the untrained for several years. Not until I hit my 5th or 6th birthday. Other than the hair on my head, I began “scaling” (as I call it) in places where normal men grow hair. Most prominently up my arms and around my neck and jawline. Starting from the age I could hold a weapon, I began learning how to fight. With a dagger, at first. Then the short sword, longsword, and eventually a great sword. For many years I just thought we were playing a game. While I trained in shield use, I didn’t care much for it. The Butchers never carried around children-sized items, so I had to make due with what I had, which meant holding a larger weapon with both hands and dealing with it. It was awkward at first, the grips of each weapon being so much bigger, and it was difficult to keep hold of. I remember Henry’s first real weapons training with me was to be able to maintain my grip. It was easy for an adult to knock a weapon out of my hands.
 
While I did not stand on the field of battle for many more years, my hands drew blood and took the life of men well before the Empire recognized my deeds on the field. As I stated, my father tried to keep The Butchers away from cities where and when he could. Now, with a young child running around, and usually a woman or two to take care of him, we were frequently the target of men who sought reprieve from their.. loneliness. At first they sated themselves with the women. Keeping quiet so as not to let Henry find out, I could only look on in horror as they hid me before they came, demanding I make no sound to give away my presence. Any man caught found their life’s candle quickly snuffed out by Henry, but he could not save them all. Eventually, some dared to be bold enough to come after me. I soon found that “playing” swords with my father was not just a game, but a fact of life I needed to understand was of paramount importance.
 
As the years went on, I eventually hit puberty like all men, and experienced a growth spurt like no other. I eventually grew to tower over men, and my “scaling” had become such that Henry bade me wear a helmet at all times to conceal myself. Henry rarely spoke to me like a child once I was able to comprehend what I was told. It was in seriousness when he explained to me that the Empire takes children of magical aptitude and bloodlines, and he would not see me become a victim to such a fate. So I did as he told me, and wore my helmet at all times whenever possible. As I grew into adult clothing, I began wearing my armor nearly constantly as well, afraid that someone may catch a glimpse at my scaling and try to… sell me out to the empire in exchange for.. I don’t know. Coin, maybe a release from this death sentence.
 
I found a release through our deeds in battle. The anger I felt at my lot in life became a power I would utilize in combat. I felt my blood boil when an enemy stood before me. It was.. intoxicating, at such a young age. I didn’t realize for quite some time that it was the power of my blood that kept me alive for so long. I thought I had found some meaning to my life in my role within the Butchers. Over time, I had even risen to the rank of Captain within our unit. Of course, my father played no favorites when it came to rewards and merits. If anything I was overly judged. I had learned many of my father’s ways in how he treated the other men, and the respect it afforded him. I did the same for those I held position over, and while there may have been a few people that I afforded more trust than others, I never revealed my truth to them, or even considered them a “friend.”
 
In time we found ourselves in Latria, under orders to assist a local nobleman named Fairmane with a growing beastman problem that was terrorizing the territory. We found ourselves on the other side of a large force of Lathan rebels before we could meet up with Fairmane and, as usual, we kept to our namesake and butchered them all. As I was walking the field to take count of our losses, Henry called me over to him. Standing next to him was a beautiful woman in a red dress, unlike anyone I had seen before. He told me to do what she asks of me, and to proceed with her ahead of our unit to deliver her safely to Fairmane as she had some sort of business with him.
 
My life has never been the same since…